


disasterpiece

by feistycadavers



Category: Marilyn Manson (Band), Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bratting, Choking, Come Eating, Hand & Finger Kink, Large Cock, M/M, Making Out, Rimming, Sexual Experimentation, Size Difference, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 06:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18255719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feistycadavers/pseuds/feistycadavers
Summary: “Next hotel night, and you have to be sober,” John says, jabbing a finger at him. “If you’re gonna mess around with another dude you can’t be so drunk it makes you forget it’s gay.”or, john agrees to let jim experiment sexually with him on account of jim has a really big dick.





	disasterpiece

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glitchesaintshit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitchesaintshit/gifts).



> this is julia fucking f's fault and absolutely not mine at all. the google doc is titled "GODDAMMIT JULIA". 
> 
> look. jim is 6'6. john's like 5'8. jim is lorge. john is tinie. they also are friends and jim did a song with john on one of john's solo records. that's all. 
> 
> shout out to maul for answering my dumb questions about slipknot/jim that i needed to finish this shit.
> 
> this is essentially an unedited rough draft and i will accept no criticism!!! i only reread it once and gave it a couple really minor edits. so just tell me if i made a blatant spelling/grammar/syntax error thanks
> 
> content warning for like, mild cissexist language but nothing malicious, just shit like generalizing that men have dicks. they're just dumb boys. but y'know i wanna warn for it just in case.
> 
> also it's set on ozzfest 01 cuz both mm and corey and the slip boyz were on that tour.
> 
> it's called disasterpiece because it's a fucking disaster.
> 
> ETA 11/7/19: i did a dvd commentary post on this fic!! both me and julia commentated. [link here](https://bringmoreknives.dreamwidth.org/117551.html)

Jim is big. Jim is really big.

 

John doesn’t actually meet him till a few days into Ozzfest. He hides sidestage, watches their sets in the most plain clothes he can find, barefaced, knowing nobody will recognize him out of his makeup and trench. John’s fine with that. He never wanted to be a rock star anyway. He’s not in it for the fame. The easy access to girls was just a bonus perk of getting to play guitar for a living.

 

Jim plays telecasters, which is how John actually reels him into a conversation. John’s standing by the case with all Jim’s guitars before their set, admiring a black-on-black model, when he hears Jim talking to his tech behind him. John immediately feels a little nervous. He glances back over his shoulder, and is instantly hit by how _tall_ Jim is. John would ask exactly how tall, but he figures tall people probably get that question even more than John gets asked whose guitar tech he is.

 

“Hey,” John says. Jim looks over, his face stern, but not hard. As if he’s wondering whose guitar tech John is. “Uh, I’m John. I play for Manson. I collect telecasters, so.” Jim’s expression softens instantly, maybe a hint of a smile playing at his face.

 

“Yeah?” he asks. “Manson doesn’t let you play them, does he.” Not a question. John shrugs.

 

“Not really, but I so often get things thrown at me onstage I don’t want to risk one of the really nice ones getting broken,” he explains. “Being onstage with Manson is probably more of a health hazard than being onstage with Sid.” John’s witnessed a fair few backflips off stage equipment that probably had their manager watching from between his fingers. Jim snorts a laugh, extends a hand. John takes it, shakes, his tiny hand disappearing into Jim’s grip. John swallows dryly.

 

“Jim,” he says. “Or James. Or number four. I get all of them.” John nods.

 

“Hey, you’re four, I’m five,” John remarks. Jim gives an awkward smile, takes his hand back, and John realizes he might have held onto it a little longer than necessary. “I usually watch your guys’ set, so. If you ever wanna hang out behind my cases to watch the show. I got this really pretty frost gold vintage tele from the seventies you gotta see. I been talking with Fender about doing a signature and I love those wacky headstocks on the old Mavericks from the sixties…” John realizes Jim’s giving him that look that says he doesn’t really care, and he trails off. As John’s about to make an excuse for his graceful exit, Jim furrows his brows.

 

“Maverick,” Jim repeats, looking off to one side. “Didn’t they make twelve string models of those? With the giant headstocks like a fuckin’ rowing paddle?” He laughs, and John relaxes, smiling a little.

 

“Yeah, those,” John says. “I think I wanna do that headstock for a signature if they ever let me. And a Bigsby. Just a weird Frankenstein of a tele.” Jim nods, reaching around John to grab the glossy black one he’d been admiring. With Jim even closer, John realizes he barely comes up to his shoulders. The neck of the guitar seems like a children’s scale in his giant hand.

 

“Fender made me this one,” he says. “Last one they did for me got the electronics fried ‘cause somebody threw a beer at me.” Jim’s tech grabs at his arm. He’s needed elsewhere. “Hey, sorry, man--”

 

“It’s fine,” John says, waving him off. “Still like six weeks of tour for us to talk guitars anyway. No worries.”

 

But John is full of worries.

 

John sees Jim watching Manson’s set from the other side of the stage, next to Dita, making her look like a toy doll. John skips the afterparty, sleeps on the bus by himself, and hurriedly jerks off thinking of Jim’s enormous hand around his neck.

 

//

 

They start hanging out over the next week or so. Jim keeps trying to offer John drinks at afterparties and John keeps reminding him he doesn’t drink. Jim always swears, apologizes, and downs John’s drink for him.

 

John follows Jim out back behind the club for him to smoke a cigarette. Jim also offers John a smoke, to which John just offers back an exaggerated cringe that’s all teeth, and Jim scoffs.

 

“C’mon, dude, do you not like fun?” Jim remarks. John shrugs, shoves his hands in his pockets.

 

“I don’t know, man, I don’t even eat meat. I just like guitars and horror movies and boobs,” John says earnestly. Jim cracks up, almost drops his pack.

 

“You’re fuckin’ weird, man,” Jim says. “I don’t know how you survive in Manson camp.” He’s not drunk, just buzzed. John doesn’t feel the need to look after him, anyway. He’s so massive he can probably outdrink Twiggy.

 

“I cannot tell you how often I hear that,” John says. He watches the street lights on the corner as Jim lights up, and John catches the familiar smell of cigarette smoke.

 

“Hey, how tall are you?” Jim asks. John starts a little. He looks over and Jim is studying John, looking him over. John can only assume Jim has just enough booze in him to make him feel comfortable asking.

 

“Uh, like, five eight,” John says. “Rounded up.” Jim laughs once.

 

“I’m almost a foot taller than you,” Jim says, flicking his cigarette ashes. “Man. I thought Twiggy was small. But you’re like, _small_ , y’know?” John blushes furiously, trying not to get flustered, but Jim’s unintentionally pressing a few of his buttons right now. “Like, your body parts are small. I mean--” Jim puts a hand up, waving off his comment “--I obviously don’t mean to insinuate you have a small dick, but like, your hands and your feet are small and shit. I’m sure your dick is fine.” John kind of half laughs.

 

“I mean it’s nothing that anyone’s ever complained about, at least,” John says, trying to shrug it off. “But nobody’s ever like, done the stupid porno ‘wow that’s a big dick’ face either.” Jim laughs loudly at that, and John can’t help but smile. Jim’s laugh is infectious.

 

“Sorry to make you overshare,” he says, taking a long drag. John gestures vaguely with his hand as if to tell him it’s not a problem. “Here,” Jim says, the words coming out smoke, “I’ll embarrass myself too. I’ve had multiple girls not be able to fit mine in them.”

 

John blinks. Is he hearing this correctly?

 

“What?” John asks.

 

“Apparently it’s like, a thing on the internet,” Jim continues, gesticulating, ignoring John completely, “where girls hook up with band dudes and then post about their dick sizes and how good they are in bed on these forums. If you’ve fucked a lot of girls you’re probably on there. But like half the comments on the Slipknot thread are like, ‘Jim’s dick is too big’. Which like, I didn’t realize was a thing until I first slept with a girl and it was an issue.”

 

“Oh,” John says pointedly. He tries to slyly adjust his half-hard dick with his hands in his pockets, nudging it down. Of course Jim’s hung. _Of course he is._ Everything else about him is big. Why wouldn’t his dick be.

 

“Anyway, it’s not like this is Love Line or whatever, and you probably don’t wanna hear a dude complain about his dick being too big cuz that’s like, a girl saying her boobs are too big or something. Except my dick doesn’t give me back problems.” Jim pauses. “So maybe that’s not a fair comparison.”

 

“I mean, it’s not like they do dick reduction surgeries,” John remarks. He’s trying not to think about Jim naked, Jim’s huge cock, Jim naked trying to put said huge cock in some tiny girl. John blinks away that image.

 

“That’d be fucked up, though,” Jim says. It’s quiet for a beat. “I don’t think I’d let a doctor cut up my dick just so I could fit it in girls anyway.” John cringes a little at the thought.

 

“That’s a hard pass for me,” John says. “Sorry if it like. Causes issues for you, man.”

 

“It’s alright, dude,” Jim says. He tosses his cigarette onto the pavement, stomps it out. “That was probably way oversharing. And I’m sorry I probably made you feel bad about yours or whatever.” John makes a face.

 

“Please, you don’t know anything about oversharing until you’ve toured with Manson,” John remarks. “I’m not a stranger to seeing dude’s buttholes but I don’t think I’ve seen anybody’s as much as Manson’s.” John stops. Goddammit. He keeps outing himself because he can’t risk making a joke about being bisexual. Maybe Jim’s drunk enough to miss it.

 

“You see a lot of men’s assholes?” Jim remarks, catching it. Damn. John shrugs. “That’s cool man. I don’t have an issue with dudes fucking other dudes. I always thought it’d be cool to fuck around with another guy just to try it, y’know. Nobody knows how to suck a dick as well as somebody with a dick, y’know.” John doesn’t say anything at first, considering how exactly to respond to that, but Jim talks again. “Would you ever want to…?”

 

John looks at him. Is he _asking_ John for a _blowjob?_

 

“How drunk are you?” John asks.

 

“Couple beers,” Jim says, “so not really at all.”

 

John sighs, looks down the alley the other way. He always said he wouldn’t be some straight dude’s experiment, would never suck a straight dude’s dick just for him to see what it’s like. But goddamnit, after all that talk about dicks, and Jim’s being _really big_ , John can’t possibly turn him down.

 

“Next hotel night, and you have to be sober,” John says, jabbing a finger at him. “If you’re gonna mess around with another dude you can’t be so drunk it makes you forget it’s gay.”

 

“Deal,” Jim says, holding that giant bear paw out for a handshake. John tries not to think about where that hand might end up too much. He just puts his hand in Jim’s palm, shakes on it.

 

If John jerks off in the bus bathroom that night, hand clamped over his mouth, it’s absolutely not about Jim.

 

//

 

The next hotel night is in two days. It’s a very long two days. John takes a cold shower with a garden hose in the bus parking lot on the second night. He sort of misses touring with kd lang in that moment, having a hotel room every night, not having to sleep on a tour bus that smells vaguely of piss and Jack Daniels that’s been vomited back up.

 

When John gets his room keys, he sneaks across the hotel lobby to where Slipknot are waiting for their manager to check them in, and John passes Jim his extra key surreptitiously with a handshake and a “hey man.” John distinctly hears Corey ask Jim whose tech he is.

 

John showers as soon as he gets to his room, despite showering at the venue after the show. He shaves everything again, cleans out, blow dries his hair. Maybe he’s overdoing it for something that’s just an experiment for Jim. Maybe John wants there to be more experiments after this one. For a moment, John wonders if he shouldn’t have shaved, should’ve skipped the second shower, just to remind Jim he’s messing around with another dude. _Too late now_ , John figures, tossing his towel onto the floor and leaving the bathroom to get some clothes out of his suitcase. John nearly shoots through the roof when he sees Jim on his bed, playing his gold telecaster.

 

“Jeez Louise!” John exclaims, jumping back behind the wall, hiding his bottom half but peeking around. “You scared the _bejesus_ out of me.”

 

“Sorry,” Jim says, noodling a tune John recognizes is Slipknot but can’t place the song. “I got nervous waiting in my room.” John sighs, softens a little.

 

“Can you at least cover your eyes until I can get some clothes on,” John says.

 

“Why does it matter if I’m gonna take them off you anyway?” Jim asks. A sincere question, but John feels his dick stiffen enough it bonks into the wall he’s hiding behind.

 

“Because,” John says, leaning his head into the corner of the wall. “I’m doing you a favor, dude. At least let me put on underwear.” Jim seems to consider it, then sighs and covers his face with those stupid fucking giant hands. John huffs. “Thank you,” he says, hurrying over to his suitcase, grabbing the first pair of black trunks he finds, and stepping into them. He pulls them up, adjusts himself a bit, then turns around. Jim’s still not looking. “Okay, you can look now.”

 

Jim lets his hands down, and his eyes give John the once over. John sighs.

 

“You have nice tattoos,” Jim says, which John figures is the most heterosexual compliment one can give upon seeing another man naked.

 

“So how are we doing this?” John asks. He crosses his arms. He’s a little mad at himself for agreeing to this, but Jim sits up a bit, takes John’s telecaster and sets it against the nightstand. He folds his hands in his lap.

 

“Should we just, like, make out and then see what happens?” Jim asks. Huh. If Jim’s willing to make out with him, maybe it won’t be so bad.

 

John goes over to the bed, knees up onto it, and climbs over Jim, his black bangs hanging in his face. Jim brushes them back out of his eyes and pulls him in, kissing him. John relaxes into it a little, lays into him, and John’s a little surprised when Jim’s other arm wraps around him. He even opens his mouth to let John in, and John runs his fingers through Jim’s hair, kisses deeper. Jim seems to pull him on closer, and John straddles him properly. John breaks the kiss off for a moment, grabs Jim’s wrist behind him, and plants his hand on his ass.

 

“Is that alright?” Jim asks, eyes turned up at John.

 

“Yeah, s’fine,” John says softly. “I like your hands. You can put ‘em wherever you want.” Jim hums in response, squeezes a handful of John’s ass so tight it hurts a little. John actually winces, and Jim lets go instantly.

 

“Shit,” he says, “did I hurt you?” John huffs, puts his hand on top of his and makes him squeeze again.

 

“I _like_ when it hurts,” John says. “If I need you to stop, I’ll tell you. Stop worrying.” Jim sighs, nods, lifts his head up to kiss John again. He lets him right back in again and John licks into his mouth, rolls his hips into him a little. Jim relaxes under him, grabs onto the back of John’s leg, his hand big enough to wrap around and dig his fingers into the inside of his thigh. John lets a rather embarrassing moan slip into Jim’s mouth, and Jim keeps kissing him, the other huge hand on his back. John feels utterly _tiny_ in his arms. Jim lifts his thigh, wedges it between John’s legs, and John grinds into it. It’s probably something he usually does with girls, he figures.

 

“Whoa,” Jim says against John’s lips. “I can feel your dick on my leg.” John snorts.

 

“Yeah,” he says. “That’s what usually happens when you make out with another dude.”

 

“Can I see it?” Jim asks. John looks down between them.

 

“Uh, you’re a little overdressed for me to be getting naked already, don’t you think?” John remarks. Jim laughs.

 

“Yeah, that’s fair,” he says. John sits up on Jim’s legs, letting him take his shirt off. John splays his hand out on his chest, big and wide, and John sighs.

 

“I think it’s kinda hot that you’re so huge and I’m small,” he admits. “I get used to hooking up with girls on tour and forget how nice it is to get manhandled by a big dude.”

 

“You like getting manhandled?” Jim asks. John doesn’t miss the hint of a grin on his face. John nods.

 

“Yeah, you can choke me and stuff if you’re into that,” John says. “And you can talk dirty and stuff. Just don’t call me stupid or stuff like that.” Jim nods.

 

“Yeah, of course,” Jim says. He puts his hands on John’s hips, hitches him forward into his lap, and John squeaks at the sudden pull. “You’re just so small it seems like I might break you.” John bites his mouth shut, reaches down to adjust himself in his underwear. “You like hearing that, don’t you?”

 

“Maybe I want to be broken,” John says. “Maybe I want you to break me with that big dick you were talking up the other night.” Jim blushes, a hand covering his face.

 

“God, I’m embarrassed I said all that shit,” he admits. John has his hands on Jim’s belt buckle. “I’m not gonna like, ask you to try to fit it in your ass, man.” John slowly starts undoing it as he speaks.

 

“I think you underestimate me,” he remarks, pulling Jim’s belt from his belt loops. “If I can handle a hand I think I can handle your dick.” Jim’s eyes widen a little and John tosses the belt onto the floor.

 

“A whole hand?” he asks, looking at his own.

 

“Well, girl hands,” John says, “not these big mitts.” He takes Jim’s hand in his, brings it to his lips, kisses the palm. “But I’d let you try.” He licks up a finger like it’s his cock, takes it into his mouth. He feels Jim stiffen under him. “You wanna let me see what all those girls can’t handle?” John remarks. Jim just nods, and lets John suck on his finger as he unzips Jim’s pants, pulls then down enough that he can get his hand in, grab him through his underwear.

 

Oh. Shit.

 

That might be more of a challenge than John anticipated.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Jim says, as if it’s unfortunate. John moves down Jim’s legs, yanks his jeans and his underwear down until his cock is free. It rolls up to lay against his stomach, too heavy to stand upright. John blinks. It’s the biggest dick he’s ever seen in person. He takes it in his hand and can’t even close his fingers around it. It’s not even close.

 

“Holy shit,” John says.

 

“Y’know, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you swear,” Jim says. “Also, you’re doing that dumb porn ‘wow that’s a big dick’ face you talked about.”

 

“God, shut up for a second,” John says. He dives down on it, swallowing him nearly halfway down in one go. Jim gives a ragged moan, a little caught off guard, as John lifts his head again, spits, slicks his length over. “How big is it?”

 

“Uh, like, ten-ish,” Jim says shyly. John laughs, mouths at the head of his cock for a moment.

 

“You’re like, twice as big as I am then,” John says. He sits back up, pulls himself out of his underwear, shifts up into Jim’s lap till they’re cock to cock. John nearly moans out loud at how much Jim’s length dwarfs his. He lifts Jim’s with his hand. “Can you even see mine behind yours?” he asks.

 

“I -- no,” Jim says. “Uh. Our balls are touching.”

 

“I guess that officially makes it gay, right?” John remarks. He sort of rubs his dick up against Jim’s, his hand too small to hold both of their cocks at the same time. “Welcome to the club, I suppose. Want a celebratory blowjob?” Jim huffs, visibly overwhelmed.

 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he says, pushing his hair back out of his face. John wrestles the rest of Jim’s clothes off and ditches his own underwear before going right back to where he’d left off. He works his mouth down and wraps his hands around what he can’t take, starts moving his head up and down. Jim moans in earnest above him, and John turns his eyes up at him, swallows down another half inch. “Fuck,” Jim hisses, and John gags a little, bobbing off. He gathers the spit hanging from his mouth and uses it as lube to jerk him off.

 

“This _is_ a challenge,” John says. “I always liked a challenge.” He goes right back down, really working his tongue into the underside of Jim’s cock as he moves, and Jim’s hand finds the back of John’s head. John purrs around him and Jim moans again, fingers winding in John’s hair. John moves a hand to Jim’s fist, pushes his own head down, and Jim gets the cue. He starts guiding John’s head, and John gives him a soft noise of approval. Jim bucks up into his throat a little and John gags again but Jim doesn’t let him come up. Good. He’s getting the idea that John wants him to make it difficult. After a long moment, Jim lifts John off his cock, and John gasps for air, wipes drool off his mouth. “Fuck me,” John says.

 

Jim freezes.

 

“I don’t know if I can,” he says quickly. John grabs Jim’s hand, gathers his first three fingers together.

 

“If you can fit all three of these fingers, you can fit your dick,” John says. “I’ll get lube.”

 

John gets up before Jim can really protest. He can feel Jim staring at him when he bends over to grab the bottle from his suitcase, and goes back to the bed, climbing onto the other side, next to him on all fours. He gives Jim the bottle.

 

“You want _me_ to do it?” Jim asks.

 

“Honestly, I’ve been wanting those fingers inside me for way too long to pass up the opportunity,” John admits. Jim seems flattered, moves to kneel behind John, and John lays himself into the pillows.

 

“Hey,” Jim says, “you just showered, yeah?” John furrows his brows.

 

“Yeah,” John says. “Why?”

 

“Can I try something?” Jim asks. John makes a face.

 

“Yeah, sure,” he says. Jim plants his broad hands on John’s ass and spreads him open, and there’s a beat where John’s wondering what the fuck he’s doing, but then there’s the broad wet pressure of Jim’s tongue laving over his ass, and John gasps.

 

“Is that okay?” Jim asks quickly.

 

“Yeah, jeez, I just didn’t think you’d go from being weird about touching balls to putting your mouth on my butthole,” John says. Jim licks again, and John sighs, fisting his hand in the hotel duvet. “If you kinda do it like you’re going down on a girl,” John offers, in case Jim’s not sure how to do this, and Jim starts doing something really nice with his tongue, hands squeezing John’s ass again. “Yeah, like that,” John says, trying to keep his voice even, but it shakes. Jim’s mouthing at him, his tongue licking him open, and John can’t help but let a moan slip out. He squeezes the pillow he’s holding onto. Jim lifts his head and goes for the lube bottle again, and normally John would be disappointed - John prefers to be eaten out till he’s a mess, really begging for a dick in him -  but he really wants those fingers in him. He reaches back to hold himself open so Jim can focus on what he’s doing with his fingers. Cold lube pours down his ass and John jumps a little.

 

“Shit, sorry,” Jim says. “Wasn’t thinking. Cold. Shit.” He quickly starts rubbing it in with his fingers, warming it up, and John purrs. “Sorry man.”

 

“S’alright,” John sighs, as Jim starts to press with one finger, and it’s actually a stretch for him. John can usually easily take one of his own fingers with just spit. Oh. Jim sinks his finger in, feels around a bit.

 

“Am I gonna take my finger out and have it come out with, uh,” Jim starts to say, and John laughs.

 

“No, dude,” John says. “I cleaned out. We’re good. No worries.” Jim sighs, seemingly relieved, and tries pushing in a second finger alongside the first. John bears down a little and it slips in, and Jim starts working his fingers in and out a bit, more exploratory than anything. John lets him.

 

“I’ve never even done this with a girl before,” Jim says. “I mean, I’ve fingered girls. But not their butts.”

 

“I guess you’re just diving into the deep end headfirst,” John remarks. “Hey, if you turn your hand over and curl your fingers down, like, towards my dick--”

 

“Like this?” Jim asks, and John shudders so violently with pleasure Jim freezes. “Shit, are you okay?”

 

“Yes, _fuck_ , I’m okay,” John grits out. “Do that again. Like, keep doing it.” Jim does, rubbing his fingers inside him, and John moans. “That’s good,” he purrs.

 

“Should I try a third finger?” Jim asks.

 

“Yeah, but throw some more lube on it,” John says.

 

“It’s already dripping everywhere.”

 

“Yeah, I know. Add more.” John swears he actually feels Jim shrug, hears the cap on the bottle pop. “Put it on your fingers _first_ this time.”

 

“Right,” Jim says, pulling his fingers out, and John waits patiently. When his fingers touch him again, he’s pushing with three fingers, and John bites into his lip, bears down, but it’s a tight fit. “I don’t know if--”

 

“They’ll fit,” John says firmly, reaching behind him to grab Jim’s wrist. He pulls his fingers in, feeling them slide in, his ass stretching to accommodate them. He feels Jim’s fingers bottom out, his knuckles against his skin. John huffs. “Told you.”

 

“Whoa,” Jim says.

 

“Yeah,” John says. It’s as much of a stretch as the entire width of his own palm, Jim’s three fingers. “You gonna put your dick in me or what?”

 

“I just, uh,” Jim says, worry evident in his voice, and John looks back over his shoulder at him. Jim’s brows are furrowed. “I just really don’t want to hurt you.” John considers it.

 

“Lay on your back again,” John says. Jim seems to understand what John’s getting at and slides his fingers out, wipes lube on his thigh, and lays back down. John takes the bottle and pours lube into his hand, letting it spill over onto Jim’s cock, and he hisses at the cold that time. John grins at him, and Jim laughs once. John slicks his length over, working him back up, and throws his leg over him.

 

“You gonna be good?” Jim asks.

 

“Yeah,” John says. “That’s why you’re not doing the fucking. So I can go as slow as I need.” Jim nods, his hand sliding up the inside of John’s thigh as John aligns him up, pushes with his thumb until the head of his cock just pops in. Jim gasps, his big hand grabbing onto John’s thigh as John sinks down a few inches, just letting himself adjust. And yeah, fuck, is it a _big fucking dick_. John doesn’t blame all the girls that tapped out. “You still with me?” John asks.

 

Jim just nods, his hand over his mouth.

 

John holds the base of Jim’s cock, starts fucking himself on it, just the first third of it or so, enough for him to open up a little. Jim tries to stifle a moan and it breaks in his throat a little. John’s other hand plants on Jim’s chest, steadying himself as he moves. He slowly takes more, another inch and then another, and after a few very long minutes, John is fully seated in Jim’s lap, hilted inside him. Jim looks like he could come just from that.

 

“I _told_ you,” John says, wiping sweat from his brow.

 

“I’ve never, uh,” Jim chokes out, “never had my whole dick in somebody before.” John grins, a wave of pride swelling up.

 

“Well, there you go,” John says. He rocks forward in Jim’s lap, then back, just a slow, shallow stroke. John figures it’s probably a lot for him right now, so he doesn’t want to get right into it, as much as John would like to just have Jim pound him into the bed. Maybe next time. Or maybe in a few minutes, since there probably isn’t going to be a next time. John eases into it, doesn’t start riding him in earnest till Jim’s relaxed a bit, his wide hands on John’s thighs. John rolls his hips, a little quicker, a little deeper. Jim grits out a moan, brings his hands up to John’s waist, and John feels tiny in his grip. “You can fuck me,” John says, and Jim nods.

 

“Yeah, okay,” he says, giving an experimental thrust up. John stills, braces himself on Jim’s chest.

 

“Go ahead,” John says. “I’ll lift up if you’re hurting me in a bad way.” Jim nods again. He tentatively dicks up into John and John purrs, chewing into his lip. “C’mon,” John whines. Jim gets the idea. He starts fucking him, and John moans, nodding him on. Jim finds a quick pace and his hips are smacking into John’s ass, this obscene sound, and John pants, overwhelmingly full of cock. “C’mon, fuck me harder,” John demands, and Jim’s hand flies up to John’s neck, grabbing, and John moans, coming out breathy in Jim’s grip. Jim’s slamming up into him, and John can feel his orgasm rising, but he pushes it away, not wanting this to be over. He quickly lifts himself off Jim’s cock, rolls over onto his back and pulls Jim on top of him.

 

“You sure?” Jim asks, as John’s grabbing at his lube-slick cock, pulling him in by it.

 

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” John says, and Jim lets John pull him into his ass, and Jim hilts himself the rest of the way, John moaning as he’s filled. “Choke me again and make me come and come in my fucking ass,” John demands. Jim seems a little surprised to hear John be so bossy, but he obliges, gripping John’s throat again. John hooks his arms behind his knees, folds himself in half, and Jim really starts pounding into him, laying his weight into John’s neck. “Fuck, yes,” John chokes out. Jim groans low in his throat, and John’s cock jumps.

 

“Should I jerk you off?” Jim asks, breathless, and as much as John likes the idea of seeing his dick disappear into Jim’s big hand, he shakes his head.

 

“Can come just from this,” John whispers, and Jim seems surprised, but he doesn’t stop. He yanks John down the bed closer to him by his neck, forcing John’s hips to angle up, and then Jim’s dicking right into that really good spot. “Fuck,” John mouths, barely coming out a noise.

 

“Are you gonna?” Jim asks, and John nods quickly, his mouth hanging open, right on edge. Jim holds that angle, keeps the same pace, clearly knows how to fuck somebody through an orgasm. John briefly thanks the universe for that in the split second before his orgasm hits him hard. His eyes nearly roll back in his head when he comes, crying out, rutting into Jim’s hips as his cock spills all over his stomach, over his chest. He sucks in a sharp breath when Jim lets go of his throat and he goes lightheaded, vision bleeding white around the edges, sobbing with the force of his orgasm and the rush of oxygen. Jim grabs onto John’s waist, slams into him a few more times, and stills his hips against John. Jim’s cock is so big John can feel him come, feel him pulse inside of him. John huffs, falls back against the pillows, lets his legs down.

 

“Holy shit,” John pants. “I’ve never been fucked like that in my life.”

 

Jim eases himself out and John reaches down, can feel his come leaking out. John purrs, closing his legs around his arm.

 

“Should I,” Jim stutters, breathless, “get you a towel?”

 

“That’d be good,” John says, gathering some of his own come on his fingers and licking it off. “Hey, you ever taste your own come?” Jim hesitates a moment.

 

“I mean, yeah, like once, out of curiosity,” he admits. John can tell Jim’s orgasm must’ve been just as hard as his, because he keeps blinking to stay on planet Earth. John drags his fingers through the mess of come on his chest, holds his hand out to Jim.

 

“Yeah, but you’ve never tasted another guy’s come, have you?” John asks. A dare. Jim laughs, his hand wrapping all the way around John’s tiny wrist, and takes all three of John’s filthy fingers into his mouth, sucks them clean. John bites his lip. That’s pretty hot.

 

“That’s way better than mine was,” Jim says. He stands up and goes into the bathroom, leaving John giggling on the bed.

 

“See the possibilities when you don’t drink booze and smoke cigarettes and eat meat?” John calls.

 

“Yeah, whatever; you just don’t like fun,” Jim quips back. The sink runs and Jim comes back with a wet towel, passes it to John. He lays next to him as he cleans himself up.

 

“So, how was your first experience with another guy?” John asks, looking over at him. Jim has this dumb grin on his face.

 

“Good enough for me to want to have a second experience with another guy,” Jim says. John beams. “Hey, so. You did me a really big favor by doing this.”

 

“Yeah, and you gave me the best orgasm of my life,” John remarks. “I think we’re even.” He tosses the towel towards the bathroom.

 

“No, really,” Jim says. “Is there anything like, sexual you’ve always wanted to do that I can make happen for you to pay you back?”

 

John sighs, considers it. He stares at the ceiling for a moment.

 

“Think you can lift me?” John asks.

 

“How much you weight?”

 

“Like one thirty, maybe one forty max.”

 

“Definitely.”

 

John smiles. “Y’know, I’ve always wanted to get lifted up and fucked against a wall.” He looks over at Jim.

 

“We got a whole month of tour left,” Jim points out. John sighs.

 

“Alright, now big spoon me, you giant.”

 

“Fine, tiny.”

**Author's Note:**

> skold.tumblr.com


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